


Witches and Owls and Corn Festivals, Oh My!

by W4nderingStar



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Animal Familiar, Gabe is a real witch, Giza inspired fic, Jack has a Secret, M/M, Petitescreme inspired fic, college age bois, gay panic about where to go to college, who is also a jerk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:54:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26959135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/W4nderingStar/pseuds/W4nderingStar
Summary: This was the first Corn Festival Jack attended alone. And it just so happens that someone new is looking for something that just might be him....
Relationships: Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Comments: 35
Kudos: 151





	Witches and Owls and Corn Festivals, Oh My!

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was duel inspired by @Gizaartworks' tweet, and @Gemsheldrake's art. The wambo combo of the two of them ganged up on me and forced me to write about sexy witch Gabriel! 
> 
> he tweet that started this: https://twitter.com/gizaartworks/status/1158453890628689921 
> 
> Pic that inspired Gabe’s appearance: https://twitter.com/gemsheldrake/status/1144664340395679745 
> 
> Big thanks to both of them forever and always inspiring me with all they give the R76 community!

**Witches and Owls and Corn Festivals, Oh My!**

“Jack, I’ve been thinking about what the cards told me,” Vincent said out of the blue. 

Jack looked across the car at him. The tarot cards again? 

Vincent’s hands tightened on the wheel. “I got the Tower, Jack.” 

Jack blinked, trying to decipher what that meant. “What?” 

“The Tower,” Vincent repeated. “It means a sudden change, a break with the old for something new and different.” He was quiet for a while. “I need to go to school in England.” 

Jack’s mouth went dry. England was far away with only the slightest change of visiting each other. “But, I don’t have my passport to visit you.” 

Vincent’s index fingers started tapping. “About that…. I also got the Five of Cups.” 

That made no more sense than the Tower had. 

“It means that something isn’t working. And I think I know what isn’t working.” 

_Oh._ “Oh.” 

“Look, Jack, it’s not that I don’t love you, I do, I always will. But I see now we have different paths to walk. My life is going East and you’re is going West.” 

Jack nearly stopped breathing. Did he know about California? “I… guess we’re breaking up then.” 

Vincent was quiet for a long time, only the clicking of the turn signal interrupting the silence. “Things haven’t been the same between us since Thanksgiving.” 

Jack flinched. Oh God, he was never going to drink wine and spill his soul again. “I know.” 

“We want different things. This is for the best. For both of us.” 

Jack looked out the window, feeling like… well not much of anything. Shouldn’t he be crying? Or begging Vincent to stay? They were high school sweethearts. Shouldn’t Jack be an inconsolable mess right now? Sure he was going to miss that he wasn’t going to get to snuggle into Vincent’s arms, or hold his hand as they walked down the street. But the idea of them not being a couple wasn’t as earth shattering as TV and movies made it seem. Maybe because he knew this had been coming for a while. All he felt was a resigned sadness of something good coming to a sudden end. 

“Okay,” he said, looking back out the window. 

~

  
  


This was the first Corn Festival Jack attended alone. The whirling lights, the loud, constant chatting of the crowd. Vincent wasn’t here as a buffer. He was half a world away, settling into his new flat. Because he was apparently a native now and couldn’t call it an apartment in all his social media updates. Jack’s world shifted under his feet, forcing him to close his eyes and breathe. It was just a crowd of people. He’d braved them before. He could do it again. 

Something popped in a vat of grease, filling the air with the stink of burnt bread. Kids laughed. A shoulder caught one of Jack’s and knocked him off balance. 

“Sorry!” the woman said before being absorbed into the shifting crowd. 

Too much. He had to get away. Jack needed to get away from the lights and the smells and the sounds. He hurried to the end of the street and turned the corner. There were people everywhere. People smiling. People laughing. People rushing, pushing past him.   
  


Inside. Jack ducked around a happy couple swinging their clasped hands back and forth without a care in the world. He pushed open the first door he came to and closed it behind him. Once the world was blocked out, he rested the back of his head against the door and took a breath. He was okay. Just a little… overwhelmed. 

“Hey, Jack.” 

He opened his eyes. He was in the Main Street Cafe. It was mercifully deserted, everyone apparently more interested in the shaved ice and soda outside. 

“Didn’t think I’d see you here.” 

Jack focused on the voice, pulling himself out of whatever episode he’d had. Jenny O’Brien stood behind the counter in her uniform and apron. 

“Hey, Jenny.” He pushed himself off the door, giving his heart rate a stern warning to settle the hell down. “Just needed a break from the crowd, you know?” He came over to the counter and smiled. 

She gave him a concerned look. “You sure you should be here? After… well, you know.” 

_After Vincent dumped you_ , was what she’d meant. Everyone knew that the Corn Festival had been their first date. His family had told him to sit this one out. Maybe being here alone wasn’t the brightest move he’d ever made if even an acquaintance like Jenny saw how pathetic he was. But he _did_ like the festival. He liked seeing the local artists bring out their stuff and listening to the local musicians. And some deep fried corn-on-the-cob was always a plus. 

“I’m fine,” he assured her. “Really. So, super busy today? 

She shook her head. “Not really. Everyone is out having fun.”

“Danny isn’t even keeping you company?”

She rolled her eyes. “As if I could keep him from the beer samples.”

“I keep telling you to dump him, you could do so much better.” 

“If only you played for my team,” she said with a wink. 

Jack smiled, but wished women would stop saying that, like he was so perfect if only he didn’t like men. “We’ll find you someone nice.” 

Her eyes darted to the side. She turned back to him, leaning in and lowering her voice. “Well, if you want to put in a good word for me with the out-of-towner in the back corner....” 

Jack casually looked toward the back corner that was tucked behind the main counter. His breath caught in his throat as his eyes widened. 

A man sat with his back to the wall, book open on his lap. He wore all black, from the toes of his shiny Santos boots, up his painted-on skinny jeans, along the long, billowing coat that hung to his thighs, to the wide brimmed hat on his head. Black, Valentino sunglasses that looked like something from a steampunk movie blocked his eyes, and even his well-trimmed mustache and beard was black. Jack wondered if he was a tortured artist wandering the country in search of his muse. The only thing that wasn’t black was his rich, brown skin that looked kissed by the sun. 

Jack thought he might melt on the spot in the presence of such undiluted beauty. What was a man like _this_ doing here of all places?

“Go say hello,” Jenny whispered. “Maybe he’ll say more than three words to you.” 

“Me?” Jack blinked at her. “What would someone like have to say to someone like me?” A shy kid with no sense of fashion and a forgettable face in the sea of corn-fed blond-haired blue-eyed midwesterners. 

“Just go say hi.” 

“Okay, okay.” Jack left Jenny at the counter and headed back to the man. 

Good God. He was gorgeous. His legs went on for miles, and his thick thighs were making Jack salivate. A stylish, black smartwatch was strapped to one wrist, the other sported half a dozen braided-leather bracelets. Small waist, huge shoulders. Jack wanted to climb him like a fucking tree and— 

The man glanced up. Jack couldn’t see the gaze, but he felt it like a sucker punch in the gut. It pinned him to the wall. He smiled, belly full of butterflies. 

“Hello.” 

The man just stared at him, full lips quirked into a maybe smile? Oh God. What would a full smile do to Jack? Shit. What did he say?

“I, uh, notice you’re new here. Just stopping in for a quick coffee?” 

The man still said nothing. 

“How are you liking Bloomington? You came at a great time. Everything’s still in bloom and hasn’t started getting ready for winter yet. Bet you took a lot of great pictures.” 

Finally the man closed the book in his hands— oh god his hands were gorgeous, with a couple of onyx rings on a few fingers and his black nails were painted perfectly— and pulled down his glasses. The eyes behind the dark lenses were a dark-brown that looked warm and soulful. 

“You’re a little ray of sunshine, aren't you?” 

“Um? What?” 

The man smiled a sly, knowing little smile that made Jack’s temperature rise. The man tucked his book into a pocket of his coat and crossed one leg over the other. “Local, are you?” 

“Yep. Yes. That’s me. Local, all my life.” Jack smiled as he screamed at himself inside. What kind of idiotic nonsense was coming out of his mouth? “Can I grab you a coffee? As you know, a friendly local.” 

“As opposed to the children of the corn local?” 

“Um….” Crap he was really fucking this up. Why could he never pull himself together around people? “Yes?” 

The tall, dark stranger chuckled. “Okay. You can get me a coffee. To prove you’re not a child of the corn. Black as night.” 

“To match the outfit?” Jack asked. 

The man pushed his glasses back up. “To keep me up. I was awake all night.” 

“Ah. Oh. Okay. Coming right up.” Jack fled to get some air before he blurted out that he wanted those thighs wrapped around his head. Or the fact that Bloomington was founded in 1816. Because apparently he couldn’t control what his brain thought. 

Jenny met him at the counter, sliding over a pair of black coffees. “How did you land the hottest guy in high school if this is your game?” she whispered.

“This isn’t my game,” Jack defended. “I’m just trying to chat with him and slip in that you have a terrible boyfriend and could use a gentleman in your life.” 

She gave him an unconvinced stare. “You’re a shitty liar, Jack,” she hissed. “Clearly he likes you better.” 

Jack felt his cheeks heat. “You’re reading too much into it.” Besides, he wasn’t ready for someone to _like_ him…. was he? “I’m just being friendly.” 

“Hm-hm.” Jenny pushed the coffees at him. “At least don’t make out with him in front of me.”

The blush spread from his cheeks to his entire face. “I-I’m not!” 

Jenny jerked her head toward the stranger. “Back on the horse, Romeo. Show Vincent what he’s missing running off to England.” 

Jack fled the counter, blushing, confused, and didn’t know what the hell he was going to do. Was the stranger hot? Of course he was. But Jack had only been single for a month. It was way too soon to be thinking about dating. Why was he thinking about dating?

“Your coffee,” Jack said, setting down the stranger’s drink. “I hope you like it.” 

The man reached out and pulled the mug over. “So, this is your ‘game,’ hm?” 

Jack burst into flames. Oh my god. He’d _heard_? “No! No, no, no, no! Not game. Definitely not game. I’m just being nice. Don’t listen to Jenny. She likes to tease me. I’m not playing any game.”

The man pulled his glasses down again, looking Jack in the eyes. “She’s right, you know. I do like you better.” 

Jack’s eyes widened, every thought fled his mind. Nope. Nope. Abort. Too much too soon. This was clearly a man of style and substance and an artist and all Jack was a two-bit farmhand. Never going to work. Too soon. It was too soon. “W-Well, I hope it’s good. Very nice meeting you I should—”

“Sit,” the man said. He smiled. “You should join me.” 

Jack most definitely wanted to run, leap out the window, sprint all the way home, and dive under his bed for the next fifty years. But he also didn’t want to be rude. And if he broke Jenny’s window she would never let him live it down. He had no choice but to stay. He sat across the table from the man, leg bouncing. 

The stranger lifted the coffee to his lips. Jack didn’t know he could blush more, but he somehow managed it as he watched the man’s full lips part, and his Adam's apple bob. Why was just the simple act of drinking so insanely hot when this man did it?

The man took another sip of coffee before setting the mug down. “Gotta say, I’ve been to a lot of places, never had my own welcome committee show up and buy me a coffee before.” 

“Oh, no, I’m not a welcoming committee. Just, you know, friendly.” 

The man arched an eyebrow as he took another sip. “Hm. Never had a friendly person buy me coffee either.” 

“Never?” Maybe they bought him drinks at a bar instead. Because holy shit he was beautiful. Anyone that didn’t buy him a drink was a fool.

“Not many people like buying a witch a drink.” 

“Oh! My Ex was kinda into esoterism. Palm reading, zodiac stuff, tarot cards.”

The stranger rolled his eyes. “Yeah no. I’m not ‘into’ it. I’m an actual witch.”

_Wow._ Jack was stuck speechless. Was he destined to repeat history to be crushing on someone else that liked this stuff? But then, Vincent had never claimed to be a witch or warlock or whatever. He’d watched YouTube videos on how to read palms, or went to that shop downtown to get sage and incense oils. 

“You don’t believe me.” 

Jack smiled. “I’m not judging you. But I really don’t believe in… you know. That stuff.” 

The man smiled, leaning in closer. Jack found himself holding his breath and leaning in too. 

“You want to see?” 

Hell yes Jack did. He nodded. Shit. Why was he letting himself get dragged into this stuff again? Hadn’t he learned his lesson with Vincent? One bad “card reading” and they broke things off. Or had to run half way across the world because of something they thought the stars told them. 

The stranger held out his hand. “Give me yours.” 

Jack put his hand in the stranger’s. They were big and… calloused. Jack would have thought the man would have smooth hands. They weren’t rough in the way a farmer's hands were, but there was some roughness over the pads of his fingers and palm. What did he do for a living?

The man sighed. “Let me guess. Your ex told you your palm said that you’re a sweet, thoughtful, kind man that’s going to live a long, steady life.” 

Okay, that was… weird. Those were Vincent’s _exact_ words. “I… mean. Yes?” 

“Uh-hm.” The stranger tranced his fingertip along a crece in Jack’s palm. “Your ex is an idiot. No offense.” 

Jack wanted to come to Vincent’s defense… but he was still a little pissed about a deck of cards having more say in their relationship than him. “He’s a good guy.” Just a little defence. He was Jack’s first love after all. 

The stranger glanced up, eyes half closed as his lips curled into a smile. “Guy, hm?”

Jack blushed and looked away. “Yes.” He wasn’t ashamed of who he was, but he wasn’t one to just go announce things like that. 

“Well, your ex-boyfriend isn’t a very good witch at all. This is basic stuff he missed.” The finger stopped at the base of Jack’s second finger. “You are sweet, but you’ve got a dark side. And it goes deep.” 

Jack locked eyes with the stranger. That wasn’t true. Sure, he could get mad, but he didn’t think that constituted a dark side. “I’m not a bad person.” 

“Didn’t say you were. Said you had a dark side.” The fingertip traveled along Jack’s hand, up his palm. The stranger tisked. “Someone’s keeping secrets.” 

Lucky guess. There was no way his hand could tell anyone something like that. 

“And it’s a big secret. Something that’s eating you up inside.” He tipped his chin up, making eye contact again. “And you are very good at hiding it. I’d go so far to say that you are a master at hiding your true emotions.” 

“Not true. I’m an open book.” 

The grin widened. “Then why don’t you tell me your secret?” 

“Because I don’t have any.” 

The knowing grin didn’t go away. “We’ll see about that.” He kept tracing a line in Jack’s hand. “You intrigue me, sunshine. So bright, and yet, so much hidden here.” He put some pressure on the spot between Jack’s thumb and index finger. “And such a short love line. You were with your ex for a long time.” 

“Not too many options for us.” 

“I would have guessed you would have had all kinds of admirers.” 

Jack looked down at the table, squirming in his seat. That wasn’t anything close to reality. “No.” Jack said. “I was the class loser.” He really didn’t know what he’d done to catch Vincent’s eye. Other than being a shy, reclusive, awkward, weirdo.

The stranger’s touch turned into an almost caress. “I’m a loser too.”

Jack lifted his eyes and started at the stranger. He looked earnest about the statement, but there was no way that could be true. “But you’re gorgeous.” 

The man laughed. “Looks only go so far when you talk to nature and read the future.” 

“Vincent never did anything like that.” 

“Which is why he was a bad witch. You’re better off without him.”

“And you’re a good witch?”

“Very good.” He winked, letting go of Jack’s hand, fingers slowly grazing over Jack’s. The stranger took another long sip of coffee.

“If I might ask, what’s a good witch doing at the Corn Festival?” 

“I’m early for Halloween.” 

Jack laughed, then covered his mouth. He… hadn’t laughed so openly since last Thanksgiving. When he’d mastered himself, he was still smiling. “But for real, the Festival is great and all, but I wouldn’t think it would draw someone like you here.” 

“Someone like me?” 

“Someone so stylish and cultured. No offence, but you seem more like you’re a new Professor at IUB that’s going to be opening a gallery downtown rather than being out here in the sticks.” 

“Well thank you. Good to know I’m as stylish as I think I am. But I'm no professor. Just a little directionally challenged.”

“Well, maybe I can help. I know this town really well. I could show you around.” 

The stranger sat back, tipping up the wide brim of his hat. “Welcoming committee and tour guide? Is there anything you can’t do?” 

“Well, I can’t read your mind and know your name.” 

He smiled. “What if I can?”

Jack snorted. “Witches can’t read minds.” 

The stranger steepled his fingers and rested his chin on their backs. “Your name’s Jack.” 

“Oh my god.” How did he know? Mind reading wasn’t real! Or was it?

The man chuckled. “I heard you talking to the barista girl. I don’t really read minds.” 

Jack relaxed. “You could have fooled me.” 

“Gabriel,” the stranger said. “But call me Gabe.” 

“Gabriel.” An angel’s name. “It fits you.” 

Gabe grinned. “How your love line is so short, I’ll never know.” 

Jack blushed and looked away. “I hope you like corn,” he said, getting as far away from that topic as fast as possible.” It’s kind of a big deal around here.” 

“I could go for some corn based food products.” Gabe pushed his empty coffee mug side.

Jack left his nearly full cup on the table when he stood. “There’s this great grilled corn on the cob stall that glazes each cob with barbecue sauce. It’s orgasumic.” Oh god. Had he _really_ just said orgasmic? 

Gabe stood in a graceful, fluid motion that brought him a couple inches taller than Jack. Shit. Jack should not be as turned on as he was looking up at a man. He glanced down. It was the boots. They had heels. God. That was just even _hotter_. 

“Lead the way to the orgasum corn.” 

Jack blushed “It’s uh, that’s not what it’s called.” 

Gabe grinned. “I realize. But I like it. Very descriptive.” 

Jack turned on his heel and marched toward the door before he really did burst into flames in front of Gabe. His cheeks were so red he was sure he could fry a cob of corn on them. Heels clicked on the tile behind him as Gabe followed him out of the cafe. 

“Have you had a chance to see much of the town?” Jack asked, dropping back to stroll beside Gabe. 

“I saw some of it last night when I arrived. Slept until noon, had to get coffee before I dealt with people.” 

Jack checked his watch. It was twelve forty. Hot damn. Gabe just woke up this handsome and well groomed? “How do you put yourself together so fast?”

“Magic,” Gabe said, strightfaced. 

He was _really_ into the witch thing. “Is it like, dancing tea cups and signing wardrobes that help you dress? Or do you have like, the creatures of the forest help you?” 

Gabe snorted. “Please. Reaper would never help me dress.” 

“Reaper?” 

“My familiar.” 

“Like… a pet?” 

“Like a magic helper.” 

“Okay.” How a pet helped with magic, Jack could only guess. 

“You want to meet him?” 

“Sure. I like animals.” 

Gabriel stopped walking in the middle of the street and lifted his arm out to the side. “Reaper!”

The group of middle schoolers walking behind him stopped, giving him odd looks as they had to split up and walk around him. 

“Weirdo,” one muttered. 

Gabe didn’t hear it, or maybe didn’t care as he stood there, a dark, handsome streak in the middle of the summer gold and green colors. A minute passed. 

“Bastard,” Gabe muttered. “I’m going to wring his stupid neck.”

“Does it normally take this long?” 

“Not. He usually—” 

A screech cut Gabe off. Out of the sky swooped a small, black streak that perched on Gabe’s outstretched arm. Jack gaped at the small, black owl with a stark-white face. It looked like a barn owl, but the colors were all wrong, and it seemed much smaller than the barn owls Jack had seen nesting in the old barn growing up. The owl kept its wings open, talons digging into Gabe’s arm. 

“Die!” it screeched.

“Did it just say die? It can talk?” 

“Shush,” Gabe admonished the owl. “Of course he can’t talk. Don’t scare the nice tour guide, Reaper.” 

The owl turned its black eyes toward Jack. It was fluffy and round, looking more like a puffball than an apex predator. Jack couldn’t place the breed, but it certerainly wasn’t one of the many owls he’d seen in Indiana. Maybe it was native to wherever Gabe was from? 

“It's really amazing,” Jack said. “What breed is it? I didn’t know owls could come in black.” 

“Die!” Reaper shreeched. 

“For real, he sounds like he’s saying die.” 

Gabe poked its chest. “Manners. Stop being yourself and be nice for once.” He turned back to Jack. “This is Reaper, my familiar. He’s a bastard.” 

“Die!” the owl shrieked again, but at a less ear spitting volume. 

“He’s beautiful. And he’s tame?” 

“Not exactly. More like he puts up with me.” 

“Could I touch him?” 

“I wouldn’t if I were you. His beak is sharp and he hates people.” 

A little bubble deflated in Jack’s chest. It would have been amazing to be able to touch the owl. Reaper flapped his wings, taking off and heading right at Jack. He froze. The owl landed on Jack’s shoulder, talons digging in through his shirt, but not breaking skin. 

“Shit!” Gabe hissed, reaching for the owl. “I’m sorry, he doesn’t—” 

The owl turned around so he was facing Gabe. He snapped at the reaching hand, battling Gabe back. Gabe withdrew, rubbing his hand. 

“Just… hold still for a minute,” Gabe said. “I don’t know what he’s doing.” 

Jack stayed still as the owl cocked his head one way, then the other. The big eyes blinked, once, twice, then— 

“Jack,” Reaper crooned. 

He could only stare straight ahead at Gabe. “Did your owl just say my name?” 

Gabe looked at a loss for words. 

“How does your owl know my name?” 

Jack closed his eyes. This was just… him hearing things. Owls didn’t talk. There was no such thing as magic. And Gabriel _couldn’t_ be a witch. 

“Jack.” 

Soft feathers brushed against his cheek, and then something nibbled on his earlobe. Jack cracked an eye open. Reaper was nuzzling against him, making soft clicks with his beak. 

“I think… he’s happy?” 

“Jack!” Reaper preened Jack’s hair, happily clicking away. 

“I’ve never seen him like this,” Gabe said. “He’s usually surly and gloomy.”

Jack reached a hand up to the owl. Without even a second’s hesitation, Reaper had stuck his head into Jack’s palm, practically petting himself. The dark feathers were soft and glossy. 

“What are you talking about? He’s a sweetheart. And you let me think he wasn’t tame.” 

“Jack!” Reaper agreed, his talons prickling at Jack’s shoulder uncomfortably, but not painfully. 

Jack leaned into the feather ball, snuggling him. “What a cuddler you are, Reaper.”

“Die. Jack! Jack.”

“Very nice to meet you too.”

Gabe dragged his hand down his face. “Reaper, what the hell?”

“He likes me I guess,” Jack said. “Hey, can I carry him for a while? I’ve never had a pet before.” 

“I can’t really do anything to stop him,” Gabe grumbled. “And he’s not a pet.” 

Reaper put his beak to Jack’s cheek and nuzzled him. Jack returned the affection with cheek scratches. 

“Come on, let's go see if we can find you a treat.” 

“He eats mice,” Gabe said, sounding grumpy.

“I’m sure there is some meat we could find him.” 

“Jack, Jack, Jack!” Reaper chanted. 

Jack reached back and took Gabe by the wrist. A warm tingle shot up his arm. He smiled like dork. “Come on, my treat.” 

For the first time, Gabe seemed to be the one at a loss for words. He looked down at Jack’s hand. Jack gave him a little tug.

“Come on, I promise you’ll like the barbecue corn.” 

“Okay?” 

Jack tugged Gabe forward through the decorated and pop up stall-laden streets. They found a stall with some raw chicken Jack was able to talk them out of for Reaper. He happily scarfed it down whole while Jack bought a pair of barbecue corn cobs for himself and Gabe. 

Gabe scrunched his nose at the drippy, golden brown cob. 

“Trust me,” Jack said, taking a bite. “It’s worth the mess.”

Gabe took a delicuite nibble. His eyes lit up and he took a big bite. 

Jack grinned. “Told you.” 

The three of them strolled along the farmers market, enjoying their snacks. Absently, Jack wandered over to the crafting section. He was all too happy to avoid the animal judging competition. If his father caught Jack hanging around with a stranger not back home filling out college applications— 

“You like art.” 

Jack couldn’t tell if Gabe was asking a question or making a statement. But it was too close to his secret. It put him on edge. 

“Uh, as much as other people I guess.”

“I’m into art,” Gabe said. He grasped Jack’s wrist and pulled him toward the arts pavilion. “Not like snooty art or anything. But you know, landscapes and stuff.” 

“Oh. I like that too. I guess.” 

“Die!” Reaper proclaimed from Jack’s shoulder where he seemed to be refusing to leave. 

Gabe led the way down the line of stalls, taking his time to look over the prints, canvas, and crafted art. Jack tried to busy himself with petting Reaper, but his eyes were drawn to the pencils and paints. His fingers longed for his own little stash tucked away out of sight. 

“I like nature.” 

Jack was yanked out of his daydreams back to the present. “What?” 

“Nature,” Gabe repeated, flipping through an artist’s box of prints. “I like it. A lot. I do my best work in nature. But I’m more of a tame nature kind of man.” 

“Tame nature is an oxymoron,” Jack said. 

“Coming from the farmer's son that’s all about taming the land.” 

Jack blushed. “How did you know I was the son of a farmer?”

“I didn’t. But it wasn’t much of a stretch. Farming area, cute boy in blue and white plaid and jeans. Dirt under his nails.” 

Jack put his hands in his pockets before Gabe could notice it was dried paint, not dirt. Well, maybe a little dirt. “Wait… you think I’m cute?” 

“Jack!” Reaper chirped in a raspy voice. 

Gabe glanced at him, then went back to the prints. “Maybe.” 

Jack took a step closer. “You know where I live, you know what I do, but I don't know anything about you.” 

Gabe thanked the artist and moved to the next booth. “You know I’m a Witch and I have an owl familiar.” 

“Where are you from?” Jack asked. 

“Not here.” 

Jack snoted. “I gathered that much. What are you doing so far from home?” 

Gabe hesitated for a second before running his hand over a painting of a summer rainstorm. “I’m looking for something.” 

“What is it?” 

“I’m not sure.” Gabe left the painting behind and wandered across the way to table with a yellow pop up shade over it. 

Jack followed. It was a local selling her garden’s extras. Basel, mint, belladonna. There were also small jars of honey. 

“How much?” Gabe asked. 

Really? Of all the stuff to buy here, all the fabious art, and he wanted some dinner garnishes? Gabe bought a fistful of each and two jars of honey, thanked the woman, and walked away, Jack on his heels. 

“I feel like I stole this,” he said, grinning back at Jack. “Do you have any idea how much I normally have to pay for ingredients?” 

“Why would you pay a crazy amount for some weeds?” Jack asked. 

Gabe chuckled. “Why would you pay crazy amounts for a big, metal tractor? Because you need it to work.” 

“You work with weeds?”

“I’m a witch, it’s what we do.”

“Could I watch you do magic?” Jack asked. He said he wasn't going to get sucked in again, but he was intrigued. 

“I didn’t bring a lot of stuff to work with,” Gabe said. 

“Classic evasion excuse. I bet you’re not really a witch.” 

“My familiar is _literally_ snuggling you to death as we speak.” 

“What else do you need? A wand or something?” 

Gabe pulled down his glasses and gave Jack a glare. “This isn’t Harry Potter.” 

Jack just smiled back. Gabe pushed his glasses back up and sauntered on.

“Is he always like this?” Jack asked Reaper. 

“Die,” the owl said, blinking his large eyes. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Jack jogged to catch up with Gabe. “Are you mad about the wand comment?” 

“No.”

He said that, but the tone definitely pissed. 

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have made a joke about what you do.” 

Gabe looked over his shoulder at Jack. He didn’t say anything, faced forward and kept walking. Oh yeah, he was pissed. Jack needed to make it up to him. He glanced around. Across the way was a caramel apple stand with no line. Something inside told him that was perfect. 

He hurried over, checking out the selection. Caramel, caramel and chocolate, white chocolate, chopped nuts, pieces of candy. A caramel one sprinkled with candy corn caught his eye. It screamed Halloween. 

“Jack,” Reaper said, bobbing his head. “Jack.” 

It was like the owl knew what he was looking at. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

He bought two of the candy corn caramel apples, taking them by the sticks. When he turned around, Gabe wasn’t there. Up and down this street, there was no slash of black cutting through the bright colors of the day. 

“Gabe?” Jack called, looking back the way they had come in case he’d back tracked. 

Nothing. Jack stood in the middle of the street, holding two caramel apples, with an owl on his shoulder, alone. He tightened his grip on the sticks. It wasn’t the first time a hot man walked away from him, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. It was just something he was going to have to get used to. 

He sighed. “Why do I open my mouth sometimes?” 

Reaper tugged on a lock of Jack’s hair. “Jack! Die.” Reaper launched himself into the air, winging over the heads of the crowd. 

“Left by the bird too,” Jack said. Confidence was sure going to be a long time in coming back. 

Reaper made a sudden turn, banking back around to the oh’s and ah’s of the curious onlookers. Reaper came back, circling around Jack’s head. 

“Jack!” he screeched. “Die. Jack!” With one more circle, he flew down the street, then landed on a lightpost. He lifted one wing and pointed around the corner. 

Which was absurd because Reaper was an owl that couldn't talk or point, or know that Jack was going to buy a candy corn apple and agree with him. But still. It couldn’t hurt to look around the corner, right? 

Jack headed down the street to Reaper's perch. When he reached it, Reaper took wing again, swooping down and landing on Gabe’s shoulder, knocking off the big hat. 

Gabe caught the hat before it fell and got a bite to the ear. 

“Ouch!” Gabe snarled, rubbing his ear. “What was that for you stupid—” 

“Die!” Reaper turned and flew back to Jack’s shoulder, pressing himself against Jack’s neck. 

Gabe put his hat back on, a hint of red on his cheeks. “Sorry my stupid bird won’t leave you alone.” 

“I’m glad—” Probably a bad move to call Gabe for trying to ditch him. Best just to let him off easy. “— that he found you. I was going to head home and wanted to make sure you got him back.” 

“You’re leaving?” Gabe asked. “So soon?” 

With the sliver of pride that remained. “Uh, yeah. I have some stuff to do, and you know, you’re looking for something and I should stop distracting you from your search.” 

“I’m looking for a tree,” Gabe said quickly. “A rowan tree. Can you help me find one?” 

“Uh.” Jack’s quick escape had been foiled, but didn’t Gabe want to be rid of him? “I don’t think we have any of those?” 

“That’s okay. What about an ash tree? I could work with that too. ”

“Yeah, we have those.” He thought anyways. 

“Could you take me there?” Gabe asked. “If you don’t have to go that is.” 

“Sure.” Maybe Gabe hadn’t wanted to get rid of him? He looked down at the caramel apple. “Oh, I got this for you. To make up for my stupid mouth being stupid.” He held it out. 

Gabe grinned, taking the apple, their fingers touching. “How did you know that I love caramel apples?” 

“I had a feeling.” Jack smiled as Gabe took a bite. 

Maybe he was just overthinking things. Gabe had been looking for whatever and walked off without noticing Jack had made a detour. Or it could be that Jack finding him wasn’t part of the plan and now that he was caught— no. He had to stop thinking like that. 

Gabe put a hand up to catch a stray candy corn from falling. “Damn. That’s the best candy apple I’ve ever had.” 

“Locally grown apples and homemade caramel,” Jack said, oddly proud of that compliment for something he had no part of. “You won’t find any better.” 

“I want to savor this. Can we find one of those ash trees?” 

“Sure.” 

It only took a few minutes to stray away from the bulk of the corn festival and find wide open land dotted with tall trees. Gabe looked them over before proclaiming one to be perfect. They settled down under it while Reaper found a branch he seemed to finally be willing to leave Jack for. After a thorough shake, he closed his eyes, and stuck his head under one wing. 

Jack and Gabe ate most of their treats in comfortable silence. Gabe peeled a candy corn off the apple and popped it in his mouth. Jack was powerless to do anything but watch those long fingers slide along the full lips while the pink tongue peeked out and— 

“Thanks for today,” Gabe said, breaking Jack out of his lip tunnel vision. 

“You’re welcome. I’m glad I was able to help and make you feel welcomed.” 

Gabe smiled, taking off his glasses and putting them in a pocket of his coat. “You did. And I wanted to do something for you in return. If you don’t mind a little bit of magic.” 

“Sure. I don’t have to drink anything weird, do I?” 

Gabe shook his head. “No. Just sit here for a second.” He stood, taking off his big coat and setting it in the grass. He pulled down a branch of the tree, snapping off a twig with a couple of leaves on it. Jack watched as Gabe took out the basil and tied it to the branch with the mint. He sat back down in front of Jack and held out the strange bundle to him. 

“All you have to do is hold it to your nose and breathe in the scent. Then, concentrate on a problem or question you’ve had. Nothing too crazy, like ‘what’s humanity’s purpose’ or next week’s lotto numbers. But something personal. You’ll have a vision that will help you figure out what you want to do.” 

Jack took the small bundle. How a smell could do that, he had no clue, but he might as well humor Gabe. 

“I didn’t know vegetables were so powerful.” 

“They need a key to unlock that power, and I’m that key. Go on, whenever you’re ready.” 

Jack lifted the branch to his nose and sniffed. It was nice. Citrus with a strong mint afterscent. No vision game to him, he was just still in under a tree with Gabe. 

“I don’t think it’s working.” 

“You have to focus on the question. And closing your eyes helps block out distractions.” Gabe put his hand on Jack’s knee, becoming the biggest distraction ever. 

Jack closed his eyes before they glazed over, but all he saw in his mind’s eye was Gabe’s hand on his knee. Yeah sure, just focus. That was going to be super easy to do with Gabe touching him. 

“Maybe think about that secret you don’t have,” Gabe offered.

Jack furrowed his brow, scowling even though his eyes were closed. How was Gabe so perceptive after such a short time together? But he did have a point. Jack had been wrestling with the acceptance letters hidden in his room. His heart with one letter, his head with the other. 

_What do I do?_ Jack asked… something. 

Nothing happened. Not an unexpected outcome. After all, there was no such thing as magic. What was he thinking expecting some outside force to know if he should uproot everything he knew, disappoint everyone he loved to chase a dream that would be nothing but difficult? Or just go to IUB like his parents expected and learn how to manage the farm for when they retired? What could magic possibly do to show him what to do with his life?

The mint tickled his nose. At least it was a pleasant smell, not like, toad warts and pickled bat wings. 

“Thanks for the magic,” Jack said, opening his eyes. “But—” The rest of the words died on his tongue. 

He stood on a campus, the sky was a cloudless, sapphire-blue. Dozens of kids his age mingled or walked through the quad. Some sat under the plentiful trees, sketching freely. Jack did a three-sixty turn. No Gabe. No ash tree. Just… wherever this was. 

“Jack!” someone called.

He whirled around. A woman maybe a few years older than him sat beside an art-nevu inspired fountain. Her long black hair was pulled into a loose braid. She put one hand up to shade her dark eyes and waved with the other. 

“Jack, over here!” 

What was happening? Was this some kind of dream? Was there drugs in that tree branch he sniffed? 

“Where am I?” Jack asked the woman.

She laughed, her cheeks dimpling. “You must have had a _really_ fun night off campus if you forgot what college you go to.” 

“I… what?” He wasn't — he hadn’t picked— 

“I hope whatever you and Gabe did last night doesn't affect your work,” she said. “We have to turn in our art project today.” 

“Art project?” 

The woman pointed at Jack’s hand. He looked down. He held a black artist portfolio. With a trembling hand, he opened it. A beautiful, black owl soaring across a field of stars was perfectly centered in the first pocket. 

Not just any owl, it was Reaper, with his stark-white face and black eyes. Had… had Jack drawn this? He looked up. Beyond the quad was a large building with a decorative sign curved around the facade. California Institute of the Arts. 

_Jack?_

He turned away from the sign and found himself staring into Gabe’s eyes. 

“What did you see?” 

Jack looked around himself. Setting sun, open field, tree, Gabe. What the hell happened?

“What did you do?” Jack asked. “Where was I?” 

Gabe’s hand stroked Jack’s thigh, calming his racing heart. 

“You didn't go anywhere. You were right here, safe with me the whole time.” 

Jack’s breathing slowed, the uneasy feeling leaving his nerves, but not the confusion. “I was… somewhere else. On a campus.” 

“What was your question, maybe I can help make sense of what you saw.” 

Jack looked at Gabe askance. Why did he want to know? But what would it hurt to tell him? It wasn’t like Gabe was going to run to Jack’s father and tell him anything. If Jack was going to tell anyone, why not a stranger who didn’t know his family’s history and had no stake in Jack’s choice? God, he’d wanted to talk through this with someone for so long.

“I… haven’t decided what college to go to. I got accepted to the University of Bloomington. It’s close to home and my parents expect me to go there.” 

Gabe’s hand pet Jack’s thigh slowly, relaxing away some of the stress. “And what’s the other one?” 

Jack took a breath and let it out slowly. “I shouldn’t even be considering it. It’s selfish.” 

Gabe’s smile was soft and made Jack want to grab his face and kiss him. “But the magic showed you that college.” 

Jack nodded. 

“Magic isn’t like people,” Gabe said. “It doesn’t lie. It shows you what’s in your heart, what would be the best decision for you. If you saw this other college, I think you should go with it.” 

“But it’s so far away,” Jack countered. “My family is counting on me to take over when it’s time. I can’t let generations of them down.” 

“It’s hard to make choices for yourself when you don’t want to let anyone close to you down. But, if your family loves you, they’ll understand that you want to follow your heart.” 

“But—” 

Gabe put his hands on Jack’s cheeks, silencing him. Jack nearly shivered as those cool palms held him, but it was Gabe’s intense stare that kept him captive. 

“Who says you can’t have both? Life isn’t black and white, Jack. Follow your dream. Then, help your family when the time comes.”

Jack’s heart fluttered and the butterflies were back in his stomach. He wanted to. He wanted that really back. But…. “What If—”

“You have to reach for the things you want.” Gabe leaned in and pressed his lips to Jack’s. 

Jack’s mind went blank. Oh. Gabe’s lips tasted like caramel. The hottest man in the state was kissing him. Well, damn. He was going to follow Gabe’s advice and reach for what he desperately wanted. He reached up, putting his hand behind Gabe’s head as he kissed back. Gabe let out a soft, happy sound and ran his hands down Jack’s chest. 

Jack melted into the touch. He missed it. Missed being wanted, missed affection and kisses and holding hands. With his free hand, he grasped the front of Gabe’s shirt, not wanting to let him go. This was crazy. He’d know this man for maybe an hour while he and Vincent had three dates before their first kiss. But Jack wouldn't have changed a thing. The only thing he wanted in the world right now was more of Gabe’s lips and his hands all over him. 

Gabe pulled back, pupils blown wide. Jack’s heart pounded harder at the knowledge that all the desire in those gorgeous brown eyes was for him. 

“What college do you want to go to?” Gabe asked, sounding breathless. 

Jack’s brain struggled to think of the answer beyond I want more kissing. “Uh, the California Institute of the Arts?” 

Gabe’s eyes opened wide, his mouth making a wonderful little “O” that Jack leaned into and pressed his lips too. Gabe indulged him, kissing again for another blissfully long moment that was too short. 

“Run away to California with me,” Gabe said, warm breath caressing Jack’s lips. “I live in Los Angeles. CalArts is right up the street.” 

Hell yes! Jack wanted Gabe to take him by the hand and lead him to sunny California where they could walk along the beach together. 

“That’s crazy,” Jack breathed, still not sure he had enough air in his lungs. “But I really want it.” 

Gabe smiled and if Jack wasn’t sitting down, his knees would have buckled from the sheer beauty of the expression. 

“You don’t have to answer now,” Gabe whispered. “Fly home with me, maybe check out the campus? Then make up your mind.” 

That was way too much to think about right now. “I want you to kiss me again,” Jack said. 

“Can do.” Gabe leaned in again, bringing their lips together again. 

Everything about this was crazy. Meeting Gabe, magic visions, running off to California. Jack didn’t care. He sank into the kiss, hands pulling at Gabe’s shirt that was so easily coming unbuttoned. 

Fuck it. He was going to reach for what he wanted.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween! I hope you enjoyed the Corn Festival! I know Jack did.


End file.
